


One Day at a Time

by TheSprout



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, Don’t copy to another site, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Rewrite, a bit of everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSprout/pseuds/TheSprout
Summary: In Victor and Yuuri's life, not a day is like the previous one. Whether they are just together, with their family, or with their friends, there is always something worth telling.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> I've been posting drabbles on Tumblr and I would like to have a place to find them all. 
> 
> Please note that this collection is more random than [For Better and For Worse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264738/chapters/40600931) : it's not only domestic fluff, some are rewrites of canon, some are before they get together. 
> 
> I will keep posting them on [Tumblr](https://dontstopyurinow.tumblr.com/) and here.
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> -The Sprout
> 
> 1 - Yuuri is nervous before a competition  
> 2 - Hiroko reflects on Yuuri and Victor's relationship  
> 3 - Victor asks Yuuri to sleep together  
> 4 - Victor tells Chris how he showed up at the Yu-topia  
> 5 - Victor distracts Yuuri during a press conference  
> 6 - Second kiss  
> 7 - Young Yuuri is sad  
> 8 - Yuuri arrives in Russia  
> 9 - Victor and the Katsukis  
> 10 - Car breakdown  
> 11 - Yuuri tells his family that he is engaged  
> 12 - Yuuri wakes up after the Sochi banquet  
> 13 - "Let's end this"  
> 14 - Victor's pink convertible

Yuuri pulls on the sparkly fabric of his gloves. He tries to breathe but his costume feels tight around his chest. He leans against the barrier and hides his face in his hands, trying to ignore the noise around him and calm his heart that is beating painfully fast against his ribs. His throat is dry. The atmosphere of the rink is suffocating and it is too late to walk out and get some fresh air. He feels nauseous. He holds onto the barrier with white fingers but his legs feel weak and his knees wobble. Just when his sight gets blurry and he is sure he is about to pass out, someone holds him up.

“Yuuri.”

Victor’s voice is soft and his arms are strong.

Yuuri shakes his head. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can.”

“I don’t deserve to be here.”

“You deserve it as much as all the others, me included.”

“It’s easy for you, it’s the third time, you’ve already won the two other times… You’re just here for fun.”

Yuuri looks away and tries to get out of Victor’s arms. Victor doesn’t let him go.

“We both know that you can skate your program perfectly and that if you do, you will win.”

“I don’t know.”

“This program is the best I’ve ever choreographed, and I couldn’t think of anybody else to skate it, not even me. If you skate it the way you do in practice… no one will stand a chance.”

Yuuri shakes his head again. “How can I even think about winning? There’s Yuri, and Chris, and Jean, and you… This is ridiculous, just look at me, it’ll just be Sochi all over again.”

“Yuri’s not exactly feeling better than you right now to be honest.”

“What? Why?”

Victor shrugs. “He’s anxious too. He’s afraid to mess up in the team event and he knows everybody is expecting him to do great. Yakov says he has not slept a wink last night.”

Yuuri looks down. “Is he going to be ok?”

Victor nods. “The first time I… I was so stressed I got sick,” Victor confesses quietly. “Really sick. I spent half of the warm-up in a toilet stall wishing someone would hold my hair back. I wasn’t sure I would even make it to the ice. Yakov told the officials I was late because I took a last minute nap.”

Yuuri rests his head on Victor’s shoulder and rubs his back as to comfort him. Victor’s jacket smells warm and familiar. He feels his heartbeat slow down. 

Victor holds him tighter. “It’s normal to be stressed, everybody feels like you right now.”

“You think so?”

“Have you seen Jean-Jacques Leroy since we arrived? No. Why is he not boasting around as usual? Because he’s crying in his mother’s arms in the locker room.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen with surprise. For a moment he wants to laugh. He was so overwhelmed by his anxiety that he had not been able to take a step back and look at the others. 

Everybody around him is buzzing here and there. The staff is holding clipboards, whispering in their earpiece, running after anyone who’s not wearing a visible badge. The journalists push each other to get the best photo or the first interview. The coaches pace nervously while their skaters stretch and warm up.

He looks above the rink. The Olympic rings shine between the national flags. He remembers why everyone is doing all of this, how hard he worked to be here right now and why he cannot give up so close.

He squints at Victor. “You don’t seem to feel really nervous.”

Victor bites his lip. “Well, I do already have two titles… I really want you to win this time. I’m just here to beat Chris one more time because he’s clearly asking for it.”

“Really?”

“Maybe Yuri too, he needs to learn to respect his elders and I want to make sure I’m still the youngest Olympic winner.”

“But you’ll still skate your best, right?”

Victor smiles and his eyes sparkle with excitement. “It’d be an insult not to. Whoever wins, it’ll be fair and square.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath, kisses Victor, and steps out of his embrace. The contestant before him bows after his program and skates toward the exit of the rink while young skaters pick up flowers and fluffy toys from the ice.

Yuuri hands his skates guards to Victor. At this moment there is nothing he wants more than to bring him a gold medal. He looks up.

“Don’t take your eyes off me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hiroko presses the handle down with her elbow and pushes against the door with her back to walk into Yuuri’s bedroom while holding the laundry basket. A pile of clean, folded clothes has been waiting downstairs for a week and it seems that Yuuri was too busy to pick it up, no matter how many times his mother asked him to take it upstairs and put it away in his chest of drawers. Tired of seeing the clothes sit on the dryer, Hiroko decided to take matters into her own hands and take care of her 23-year-old baby’s laundry.

She uses her elbow again to turn on the light and puts the basket on Yuuri’s desk. She plunges her hands inside to take the clothes out but pauses halfway.

There is a strange atmosphere in the room. 

Everything is still and quiet. The air is heavy, a bit humid, and slightly musty, as if the window had not been opened in a while. The blinds are pulled down in the middle of the day. An almost imperceptible layer of dust covers the furniture. The heater has been turned off, the bed is cold, and the sheets are untouched, neatly flattened over the mattress. The pillow is missing. It looks like no one has slept in this bedroom in a few weeks.

Hiroko frowns, and looks up. A single poster of Victor is still pinned up, hidden behind the door. She studies his glossy face for a moment.

It’s already been four months since Victor invited himself over at the Onsen and started coaching Yuuri. The boys got along quickly and easily. Within a few days they were close and after only a couple of weeks, they were inseparable.

If one were to look at them from afar they would look like best friends, but something tells Hiroko that they are not. That they are more than that.

She sees the way Yuuri looks at Victor, how it has changed, from a dumbstruck, distant admiration, to a quiet and tender affection. She sees how Victor has relaxed after realizing that Yuuri likes him even if he is not always as perfect as a magazine cover. Maybe it’s the way they don’t always come down together for breakfast in the morning but sometimes they do. Or the way Victor makes Yuuri’s cup of tea exactly how he likes it. The way Yuuri takes Victor’s jacket when he forgets it before leaving. The way they smile together, the way they laugh at the same time. The way they look at each other and they don’t talk but they exchange a thousand words.

Hiroko picks up the laundry basket and heads to the banquet room, where Victor has been sleeping since he arrived. The room is clean and bright. A light breeze comes from the open window. The sheets are wrinkled on the large bed. Victor’s sweater is on the armrest of the couch, and his slippers by the bed.

A second pair of slippers is on the other side of the bed. On the chair in the corner of the room, a jacket with the word ‘JAPAN’ written on the back. On the left nightstand, Yuuri’s glasses.

Hiroko smiles. She puts Yuuri’s clothes on the bed, and closes the door behind herself on her way out.


	3. Chapter 3

Often after dinner, Yuuri and Victor sit on Victor’s bed and study the videos they have taken at the rink during practice. Sometimes they watch an episode of a series afterward. Most of the time they end up lying together under the blanket and sharing a pillow, Yuuri resting his head on Victor’s shoulder while Makkachin sleeps at their feet.

But every time without fail comes the moment Yuuri looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand and has a little sorry smile.

“I should go to sleep,” he says as he pushes himself out of the bed, and Victor shivers not to have him at his side to keep him warm anymore. “I don’t want to be tired for practice tomorrow.”

And every time Victor smiles, praises his motivation and dedication, and lets him go, ignoring how his heart tightens when Yuuri walks to the door to go back to his own bedroom.

Then Victor lies alone in the dark, looking at the ceiling and wondering if he will ever have the courage to hold Yuuri back and ask him to stay for the night.

It feels like all his life he could have asked virtually anybody to sleep with him, and now asking Yuuri to cuddle a little bit longer is beyond him.

Maybe it is because he has, in fact, already asked Yuuri to sleep together, and Yuuri has refused promptly and locked himself in his bedroom. Sure, back then it was more an offer for a slumber party than anything else, and a lot of things have changed during the weeks they have spent together, but the memory is still a bit too fresh in Victor’s mind.

Maybe it’s because he is afraid that Yuuri will misunderstand his intentions and think that Victor only wants him for what they could do under the blankets, and that he tries to take advantage of his position as a coach to get him in his bed like a horrible pervert.

Maybe it’s because Victor is like everyone else and he is afraid of rejection. He is afraid to lose what he has with Yuuri. In his darkest dreams Yuuri laughs and tells him that he’d rather stay friends, because Victor looks better in the magazines and, to be honest, he is a little bit too old for his taste now that he can see him up close.

And so the weeks pass and Victor sleeps in one room and Yuuri in the other, and Victor holds his pillow tight and pretends that his chest doesn’t feel cold and hollow as soon as Yuuri walks away from him.

One night Yuuri barges in his room and Victor thinks he is seeing an angel sent by the Gods. An angel who wears blue pajamas shorts and steps on Makkachin’s tail when he gets on the bed. When he wakes up properly he realizes that Yuuri has jumped on him to make him listen to his free skate music and it’s all strictly professional. Victor smiles and nods, and Yuuri goes back to his room after muttering confused apologies for walking in while Victor was sleeping. Victor is left alone with his dog.

“Don’t look at me like that Makka… I’ll ask him tomorrow, I promise.”

 

It is another month of judging looks from his poodle before Victor manages to speak up when Yuuri leaves his bed.

“Yuuri-”

Yuuri stops. His big brown eyes are so curious that Victor almost chickens out.

“If you… If you want to stay a bit more, you can. I mean if you- if you wanted to sleep here… you could.”

For a moment Yuuri looks shocked and Victor fears he might have crossed the wrong line. He looks down.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s inappropriate, I didn’t real-”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Yuuri blurts, and the relief in his voice is almost comical.

Before Victor knows it, Yuuri has taken off his pants, put his glasses on the nightstand, and sneaked back under the sheets exactly where he was a minute earlier. Yuuri turns the light off and lies on his side, his back against Victor’s chest.

Victor’s heart is racing. It feels so right it seems that Yuuri’s body was made to perfectly fit against his. It is warm, and soft, and so incredibly comforting that Victor wonders how he even managed to fall asleep before. It is like he was missing something and only now he realizes how empty he felt when he was not holding Yuuri in his arms. He tentatively puts his arm around Yuuri’s waist, and Yuuri takes his hand and squeezes gently. Victor doesn’t want to ever move again.

He holds Yuuri tighter and hides his nose in his hair. He can hear the smile on Yuuri’s lips when he whispers in the dark.

“Good night Victor.”

“Good night Yuuri, sweet dreams.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Because I was naked.”

“What?”

“His parents own this hot springs place and you’re not supposed to wear a swimsuit.”

“You were naked at his parents’ house.”

Victor rolls on the bed, props himself up on his elbow, and cradles the phone between his shoulder and his ear to pet Makkachin. “It’s not what it sounds like…”

Chris scoffs. “Well, enlighten me then?”

“I was just taking a dip and then I saw someone arrive and it was him.”

“What did you do?”

“I stood up and I said I wanted to be his coach.”

“How high was the water?”

“Not high enough.”

“Very straightforward.”

“I panicked.”

Chris chuckles and sighs. “What did he do?”

“He screamed.”

“Oh come on, you’re not that big…”

“Yes I am, but he barely looked to be honest… He stumbled backward and screamed like I was a ghost.”

“What a shame.”

“Chris…”

“What did you expect? I told you to message him ahead.”

“He is the one who asked me to come and coach him!”

An exasperated sigh echoes through the phone and Victor is vaguely reminded that they have had this conversation before.

“And then he didn’t talk to you ever again after that…” Chris says softly but seriously. “Darling I’m sorry but even the Great Victor Nikiforov can be rejected. He was just drunk.”

Victor’s heart tightens at the thought of these moments lost in champagne bubbles. For a night he had believed he was finally seeing the light at the end of a long tunnel of doubt and loneliness. Everything in Yuuri had made him hope for better days. His smile was contagious, his eyes glimmered with innocent joy, his laugh resonated in the air. With his ugly tie around his head he was the drunkest, sweatiest guy Victor had ever touched, and yet, when Yuuri asked him to be his coach as if it was his heart’s deepest desire, Victor had felt like he wanted nothing more than to say yes and make Yuuri happy.

Chris takes him out of his contemplation. “He kicked you out? You can fly back to Geneva if you want, my door is always open. I don’t have to tell you that I only have one bed and a no-pajamas rule though.”

Victor has a sad smile. “No he didn’t… He apologized, he gave me an outfit of the hot springs and then he brought food for me and Makka.”

“You brought your dog?”

Victor scratches Makkachin’s ear absent-mindedly. “I mean, I have to stay at least until the next season if I want to be his coach so I couldn’t just pack a carry-on. I shipped all my stuff.”

“Your stuff?”

“All my bedroom.”

“All your bedroom…” Chris repeats in awe. “And he just… accepted this?”

Victor nods as if Chris could see him. “Yeah, we had dinner earlier tonight and I’m in my room now.”

“Did you speak with him? What did you say?”

“Nothing much… He has to lose weight before we start training. You should see him, he’s all chubby and adorable, I just want to squeeze his- ah whatever,” Victor sighs with regret, “he doesn’t let me approach him anyway.”

“Really?”

“He literally runs away when I come too close or I try to touch him.”

Chris pauses. “Do you think he is…”

Victor lets himself fall on his back, puts his phone on the pillow, and looks at the ceiling in despair. “Tell me about it, I’ve spent thirteen hours of flight asking myself what I’d do with my life if he’s straight.”

“Does he look straight?”

Victor runs his fingers through his bangs. “I don’t know,” he says in a breath.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

Victor shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s nice and polite but he’s so distant with me… I think he just sees me as a coach.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He said no when I asked to sleep together.”

“You what?”

“I wanted to know more about him- he was so shy during dinner I thought he’d feel more at ease if we were just the two of us.”

There is a silence at the end of the line. Victor takes his phone to see if the call has been interrupted.

“Chris?”

Chris clears his throat and speaks slowly and clearly. “You showed up at his parents’, naked, with your dog, your twelve lamps and your framed picture of yourself, you ate his food, you told him he was fat, you tried to get in his bed on the first night, and he still wants you to be his coach?”

“Yeah, why?”

“And you’re not sure he likes you?”

“It’s hard to tell really… Though he does have a few posters of me, but-”

“I don’t know which one is the worse idiot, but you two are definitely playing in the same league.”

“What-”

“No need to ask!” Chris gasps. “Of course darling, I’ll be your best man, it’s my pleasure.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Mr. Katsuki, what are your plans for the World Championships?”

The press conference just started and the room is buzzing with cameras and journalists. Yuuri is sitting in the middle, his gold medal dangling around his neck, and his coach at his side.

“I’m happy with what I did today but I’m sure that I can improve my free skate even more.”

“How much of your success do you think is due to your coach?”

“Victor really helped me take my skating to the next level, I couldn’t have done it without him.”

Victor gently puts his hand on Yuuri’s knee and Yuuri gives him a fond smile.

“Mr. Katsuki, how do you manage to separate your personal life from your professional career?”

Under the table Victor’s hand moves up a few inches. It feels warm on Yuuri’s thigh. He blushes.

“It’s not always easy but Victor knows when to be a coach and when to be a husband.” Victor gently squeezes his thigh and Yuuri winces. “Most of the time at least.”

The next question is for Phichit and his silver medal, and Yuuri stares at Victor, but he is checking his phone with his other hand and pretends not to notice Yuuri’s reaction. His hand moves a little higher and his fingers tease the inside of Yuuri’s thigh.

Yuuri shivers. A good dozen cameras ensure the live broadcast of the press conference on several channels across four continents. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on Phichit’s answer.

Guang Hong replies to a question about winning his first bronze medal, and Victor’s hand slides between Yuuri’s legs. Yuuri squirms and presses his thighs together, and it only heightens the feeling of Victor’s palm against his groin. His pants feel too tight already and his heartbeat quickens in panic.

“Mr. Katsuki?”

Yuuri looks up. All the journalists are looking at him, fingers hovering over their keyboard and pen suspended in the air. Victor doesn’t remove his hand and seems perfectly calm and professional for everybody sitting on the other side of the table. Yuuri stutters.

“I- I’m sorry, could you repeat the question please?”

He does his best to listen to the question and make up an answer but Victor cups his inner thigh, and Yuuri’s voice is unusually high-pitched when he speaks in his microphone again.

The next questions are for Phichit and Yuuri is relieved to have a moment to compose himself. He however quickly understands that his efforts are vain.

Victor presses his hand down slightly and Yuuri gasps as his lower abs twitch. This time Victor cannot hide a satisfied smirk and Yuuri wants to hide under the table. Still smiling at the cameras and looking as relaxed as usual, Victor gives him a firm rub.

Yuuri squeals. The crowd turns to look at him.

“Do you have something to add Mr. Katsuki?

“Erm I-” he starts as he desperately tries to remember what Guang Hong just said even though every cell of his brain is focused on the feeling of Victor’s fingers between his legs. “I agree that, erm, Guang Hong can win with triples if his PCS is high,” he stammers awkwardly.

The journalists seem confused but Yuuri couldn’t care less as long as they look at his face and not under the table, where he is so hard under Victor’s touch that it is almost painful.

Maybe it is the thrill of being in public, or maybe the relief of his victory, or simply because they have not done anything under the blanket for a little while before the competition, but Yuuri cannot remember the last time he got aroused so quickly and so fiercely.

The thin and stretchy fabric of his costume lets Victor wrap his hand around him and Yuuri’s knuckles go white as he braces himself on the edge of the table not to jerk up.

His salvation comes with the end of the conference. Victor takes his hand back as if nothing happened, people get up to leave, and Yuuri looks down to hide the burning flush of his face. The tight lycra of his pants leaves very little to the imagination, and so he grabs his jacket and holds it around his arm in front of him to conceal his problem.

Victor finishes his discussion with a staff member, has a wide, innocent, heart-shaped smile, and turns around to leave.

“Oh no you don’t,” Yuuri mutters as he grabs his husband by his tie and pulls him the other way toward the locker room. “You come with me and take responsibility for your actions.”


	6. Chapter 6

The first time Yuuri feels Victor’s lips against his own, he does not really have time to process the things that go through his mind. Mostly, he remembers being very surprised, falling backward, and feeling the cold ice bite his butt.

It is only when they are back at the hotel that night that Yuuri realizes what happened. He lets his fingers brush against his lips as he tries to remember what Victor’s kiss felt like but the sensation escapes him like a blurry dream in the morning.

Victor catches him in his thoughts and comes to hug him. Something has changed between them, Yuuri can feel it. Victor is happy, relaxed, almost relieved, as if he could finally do something he had been waiting to do for ages. He looks at Yuuri for a few seconds and then slowly lowers his head toward him.

Yuuri feels overwhelmed even before Victor’s lips touch his. His heart beats against his ribs, his eyes widen, and when Victor kisses him, Yuuri opens his mouth to gasp. Their teeth collide, their noses rub together, Yuuri’s glasses poke Victor in the eye and, somehow, his tongue ends up in Victor’s throat.

Victor pushes him back gently. “Wow… Ok,” he chuckles softly, “that was a bit… eager.”

Yuuri wants to disappear into the ground. He looks away as he feels his cheeks burn. “I’m sorry I wasn’t ready I- I panicked.”

“It’s fine. You can tell me if I’m going too fast.”

“No no! Please do it again! I’m ready now.”

Victor takes a step back and smiles. “Maybe we should take it slow for now.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “Teach me.”

Victor laughs. “It’s not something you can teach.”

“Why?”

“You learn along the way, you improve with practice.”

“Make me practice.”

“What?”

“Victor,” Yuuri insists. “Do I need to get drunk and grind against your leg again?”

Victor looks up and has a side smile. He flips his hair to the side and nods.

“Alright…” he says as he carefully takes Yuuri’s glasses off, puts them away, and looks back at him. “Touch my lips with your lips.”

He closes his eyes and waits, and for a second he looks like a princess waiting for her prince. Yuuri hesitates, but he slowly leans forward and lets his lips brush against Victor’s for the briefest moment.

Victor opens his eyes and smiles. “Now try to press your lips against mine, just a little bit.”

Yuuri repeats his move but this times pushes his lips against Victor’s. To his surprise, Victor kisses him back. Yuuri flushes. It feels soft and warm. Victor is close and his cologne smells familiar. He relaxes.

“Now you can part your lips a little bit,” Victor whispers, “and move them while we kiss.”

“How?”

“Just try?”

And so Yuuri tries. He presses his lips against Victor’s. He opens his mouth slightly. He kisses the corner of Victor’s mouth. He turns his head to capture his lips with his own.

When he pulls back Victor doesn’t say anything. He looks kind of confused and Yuuri gets worried. “Was it OK?”

“Erm- yeah. It was ok,” Victor mutters slowly. He composes himself and straightens up. “You can use your hands as well,” he says as he takes Yuuri by the waist and brings him a bit closer. “You can hug me or put your hand on my back for example.”

Yuuri wraps his arms around Victor. He lets his hand roam up his shoulder blades until he can run his fingers in the back of his hair. He gently pulls Victor’s head down to kiss him again. It’s hot and velvety, and it makes Yuuri vibrate with excitement. Victor’s tongue teases his lips and Yuuri obliges. It’s wet, a bit messy, but it feels so right that Yuuri rises on his toes to get more. His heart is fluttering in his chest. The next minute he is the one trying, playing, kissing Victor like his life depends on it. He is not sure of what he is doing but before he pulls back, he gently bites Victor’s lower lip.

Victor blinks in surprise. He looks down and hides behind his bangs but the blush of his cheeks spreads down to his collarbones and is clearly visible on his pale skin. He brings his hand up to touch his lips right where Yuuri just kissed him and remains silent for a moment.

Yuuri winces in concern again. “I’m sorry I don’t know why I did th-”

“No,” Victor says as he shakes his head. “It was fine. It was…” He looks up. “…really fine. I think that’s enough for today.”

“What? Why?”

Victor runs a hand through his hair. “We’re just taking a break, we can try again later.”

Yuuri frowns. “But I want to try again right now!”

Victor raises an eyebrow. He looks at Yuuri and Yuuri cannot tell whether he is upset or not. Without warning, he pushes Yuuri back and corners him against the wall. His breath is hot against Yuuri’s skin as he kisses up the line of his jaw until he catches his lips.

Yuuri shivers. Victor’s lips are insistent, fervent, almost burning. It’s not slow or gentle anymore. Victor is not showing or teaching, he is taking what he wants, without holding back. His arms hold Yuuri close when he deepens the kiss, and Yuuri’s brain goes absent without leave.

Yuuri forgets to breathe and within a few seconds he feels light-headed. Victor’s hand against the small of his back sends sparkles down his spine. His arms go limp and his knees wobble. His eyes are closed. His ears are buzzing. Nothing exists anymore but the taste of Victor’s lips.

When Victor pulls back they are both bright red and slightly out of breath. Yuuri blinks. His sight is blurry and his mind fuzzy. His whole body feels like cotton wool. He lets himself fall against Victor’s chest and nods slowly.

“Now that’s enough.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Sshhh don’t disturb him.”

“But-”

“He needs a bit of time.”

“Time for what?”

“Leave him alone, Mari.”

Hiroko and Mari stop talking when Yuuri walks down the stairs and appears in the living room. He drags his feet on the tatami, his head down and his shoulders low, as if each step required an immeasurable effort.

His tiny poodle jumps around him to play and Yuuri sighs. “Not now Vicchan…”

“Yuuri, honey, are you ok?” Hiroko asks with concern.

Yuuri remains silent as he looks at the floor with glassy eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“This is ridiculous,” Mari whispers and Hiroko gives her a severe glare.

Yuuri doesn’t answer. His eyelids are red and puffy. He mumbles for himself quietly. “How could he do something like that? Why? Of course I still love him but… What did we do to deserve this? We trusted him and now…”

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri looks up but still doesn’t seem to pay attention to anything. “I need to call Yuuko…” he says as he turns around to head back to his bedroom.

Hiroko walks up to him hesitantly. “Yuuri, you need to have breakfast, you’re going to be late…”

“How could I want to eat after what he has done?”

”… you still have to go to school today…“

Yuuri shakes his head slowly. "I’m dropping out.”

Hiroko blinks in disbelief. “I think not.”

“It’s a day of national mourning.”

“You’re totally not overreacting,” Mari deadpans.

“In Russia maybe but not here,” Hiroko insists. “Come on, your tea is going to be cold.”

“Nothing will ever be the same again.”

Yuuri keeps wandering around like a lost soul all day and Mari loses patience when she walks down the corridor and the poster of Victor on Yuuri’s door has been adorned with a black ribbon.

“Ok but this is going too far.”

“Let him be,” Hiroko scolds, “I’m sure it’s just for a few days.”

“He is not dead!”

“Thank God he’s not, can you imagine his reaction.”

Toshiya walks up to them and has a worried frown when Yuuri walks past them slowly, looking into the void like nothing matters anymore.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Victor Nikiforov again,” Hiroko says, “the guy on his posters.”

“Did he lose a competition?”

“Worse,” Mari sighs as she rolls her eyes. “He cut his hair.”


	8. Chapter 8

“It’s a bit small, it was just for me and Makka and I’m not really here very often, I’m always traveling or at the rink so-”

“It’s really nice.”

Yuuri walks in and looks around while Victor closes the door of his apartment behind them.

Fate has once again done its thing and the place Yuuri was supposed to rent during his stay in Russia was given to someone else at the last minute. No one has taken the trouble to let him know about it and he discovered the news when he checked his voicemail after landing in St Petersburg.

Victor was shaking when Yuuri told him about his bad luck on the phone. He tried not to sound too excited when he suggested the most obvious solution.

“I can come and pick you up- No you don’t need to find a hotel!” he said hastily as he put on his shoes and coat to go join Yuuri at the airport. “I mean only if you want to but you can- you could… stay at my place. At least for tonight and maybe until you find an apartment you like? No- How could you disturb me? You don’t have to but it’d be really convenient for you, it’s close to the rink and everything and…”

And I’d really love to wake up at your side tomorrow, but that Victor kept it for himself.

This is how Yuuri finds himself dragging his suitcase in the middle of Victor’s living room one evening of March.

He is a bit hesitant but now that he is alone with Victor after long hours of flight, he relaxes. The place smells like Victor. A mix of his cologne, his shampoo, his laundry soap, and the soft scent of his skin Yuuri only notices when they hug very tight. It washes over Yuuri like a cozy blanket and he is glad that he didn’t choose the hotel room. He takes a few steps in and the floor squeaks.

“I’m sorry,” Victor says as he bends down to pick up a rubber dog toy. “They are everywhere.”

The apartment is bright and clean, comfortable, but Yuuri can’t help but think that something is missing. The air feels slightly cold and the decoration is modern but strangely dull. With just a touch of tidying it would look like one of these fake living rooms in Swedish furniture stores. Only Makkachin brings a bit of warmth to the place when she jumps and waves her tail to greet Yuuri.

“You can leave your things here,” Victor says as he opens the door to the bedroom.

Yuuri glances at the large bed. “Which side do you sleep on?”

Victor shrugs. “The one where Makkachin isn’t.”

Yuuri drops his bag on the right side.

The first days go by and without either of them noticing they create their very own routine. They decide who showers first, what they want to have for dinner, what they are going to watch that night. Yuuri’s shoes and skates find their place next to Victor’s and their toothbrushes stand in the same glass on the bathroom shelf.

Victor gets used to waking up to Yuuri’s messy hair, his cheek squished against the pillow and his mouth slightly open. He buys groceries for two. He catches himself putting things in his shopping cart that he doesn’t eat but he knows Yuuri likes. He doesn’t go out on Friday night because Yuuri is tired after training and said he would rather stay at home, and Victor is only too glad to get to spend more quiet time with him.

After a week Yuuri feels a bit more at home and Victor discovers that he has to drag him from under the blanket in the morning while he begs for five more minutes of sleep if he wants to get to the rink on time.

In the evening he watches Yuuri cook in the kitchen and the atmosphere in the apartment has never been so warm and happy. Yuuri hums as he stirs a pot and the whole place smells like hot, delicious food. Makkachin waits beside him for something to eat and he laughs when he throws her a little chunk of meat. Victor doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

One morning three weeks after his plane landed, Yuuri’s phone vibrates while they are still cuddling in bed. He squints at the screen and winces.

“It’s the real estate… They said they’d call when they find a new apartment for me.”

Victor’s heart tightens. Suddenly he sees Yuuri packing his things and walking out the door. He imagines waking up without him, having breakfast alone, going to bed at night without anyone to hold in his arms. 

He pulls Yuuri closer to his chest. He whispers:

“Don’t answer.”

Yuuri pauses. He puts his phone back down on the nightstand, nestles against Victor, and pulls the blanket over both of them.


	9. Chapter 9

“Victor?”

Victor raises an eyebrow and gets up to answer the knock at the door of his bedroom.

“I’m doing a load of laundry and Yuuri gave me his training clothes. Do you have things you’d like to throw in?”

Victor blinks. Hiroko holds the laundry basket against her hip and he can see Yuuri’s underwear and skating socks on the top of the pile of clothes. He hesitates. 

He looks up and Hiroko smiles. One of these warm, motherly smiles that make him feel like he is 5 years old all over again. He nods.

“I do, actually. Just a minute please.”

He goes around the room and picks up T-shirts and tracksuits. He drops everything on top of Yuuri’s socks.

“We’re having Chinese fondue tonight,” Hiroko coos happily as she pushes Victor’s clothes down in the basket, blissfully undisturbed that she is touching his dirty sweatpants. “I hope you like it!”

Victor cannot exactly pinpoint the moment he stops being a guest at the Yu-topia, but the Katsukis remind him every day that he is not one.

Maybe it’s from the first day, when Hiroko calls him “Vic-chan” and Yuuri’s cheeks turn dark crimson when has to explain that it’s an affectionate diminutive.

Maybe it’s the first week, when Toshiya helps him push his furniture in his bedroom and doesn’t mind that he has two couches and a bed larger than Yuuri’s room.

Or the day Victor knocks the soy sauce off the table, and instead of cleaning it like she does for patrons, Mari gives Victor the mop so he does it himself.

“Mari why is Victor cleaning the floor?” Yuuri asks in panic when he walks in to see him on all four under the table.

Mari shrugs. “Because he made a mess and he’s a grown man who can clean up after himself?”

Sometimes it’s little nothings. It’s when Yuuri and Victor are leaving and Hiroko grabs Victor by the arm and shoves a grocery list in his hand. “Are you going in town? I need vegetables for tonight.” It’s when she reminds Victor that he is forgetting his jacket on the back of a chair. It’s when she notices which tea he prefers and makes sure to always have it in her kitchen.

Other times it’s kind gestures and unfailing support. When Makkachin steals a bun and has to go to the vet, the Katsukis don’t even blink that Victor leaves Yuuri in Russia at a crucial moment of his career to come back for his dog. Toshiya picks him up at the airport, Mari stays up all night at his side, and Hiroko has a warm meal and a clean bed for him when he comes home late after the operation.

Surely it’s when Victor’s birthday comes around and for the first time in almost two decades he doesn’t spend it alone in a hotel room trying to sleep before the Russian National Championships. 

He thought no one but Yuuri would care about the date, but at dinner all the Katsukis congratulate him. “I made steamed raviolis, I saw you liked them last time!” Hiroko says as she gives him a wrapped package, and Victor cannot remember the last time he got a birthday gift -”Victor, darling, what can we gift so someone who already has it all?”

It seems that Yuuri takes after his mother for his taste for ties and suits, and the scarf Victor gets is objectively the ugliest piece of clothing he owns, but he doesn’t hesitate to wear it every time he has the occasion to.

He has been living in Japan for almost a year when he sees Toshiya change the picture that’s on the counter in the lobby. It was a family picture of the Katsuki when Yuuri was about 16 before he left for Detroit. Now it’s a photo they have taken during new year’s eve. There’s Yuuri, his sister, and his parents. Victor stands next to Yuuri and Makkachin sits in the foreground.

Toshiya sighs with contentment and looks up at Victor. “We really needed a new family photo.”


	10. Chapter 10

“It’s the spark plug… I should have guessed it.”

Yuuri has a side smile at the sight of Victor playing the mechanic, standing in front of the open hood of the car as he rubs his hands with a rag to wipe smears of dark grease off his fingers.

The summer is hot and the sun is high in the sky. After long hours of driving the car has coughed its last engine rev and slowed down on the side of a country road between two bucolic villages.

Victor closes the hood and Yuuri raises a mocking eyebrow. “The spark plug, really?”

“Yeah no doubt,” Victor sighs as he flips his bangs out of his face with a move of the head.

Yuuri walks up to him and wraps his arms around his waist from behind. He rises on his toes to whisper in his ear. “It has nothing to do with the fact we should have stopped for gas like 100km ago, right?”

“We still had more than enough to get home.”

“The car beeped three times and I asked you to stop half an hour ago.”

“Did you?”

“Twice.”

Victor has an apologetic wince and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I’ve always done this trip on one tank.”

“They said they can be here in an hour and a half,” Victor says blandly after calling for a tow truck.

“An hour and a half?” Yuuri repeats in dismay. “I’m going to die from the heat,” he whines as he pulls on his shirt and waves it to try and get some air.

Victor put his phone back in his pocket and hugs him. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you when we get home.”

Yuuri looks up. The air is heavy and the burning asphalt makes the horizon tremble. There’s barely any wind. The first buttons of Victor’s shirt are open and his skin glimmers with a thin layer of sweat from standing under the sun to look at the car. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His cheeks are slightly red and the blush spreads down to his collarbones.

Yuuri reddens and it has nothing to do with the heat. 

He looks at Victor through his lashes and whispers. “I think I’m very upset and you need to make up for it right now.”

Victor eyes sparkle. He bends forward and kisses Yuuri softly. He straightens back up and Yuuri rises on his toes to kiss him again. Victor grabs him by the waist and within a few seconds they are pressing against each other like eager teenagers. Yuuri lets his hand run under Victor’s shirt and the hard lines of his abs under his fingers make his heart quicken.

The body of the car is blistering hot when Victor pushes Yuuri against it to kiss him ardently. His lips are fervent and urging and Yuuri already feels dizzy.

Victor’s hand sneaks behind Yuuri to reach the door handle. Yuuri grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him down with him on the backseat.

The space is narrow, and Yuuri is glad they are both flexible, but his mind is soon busy with something else when Victor lies over him and Yuuri can feel the weight of his body and the warmth of his skin. Their lips meet again and they kiss messily, gasping when they forget to breathe and shaking with anticipation.

By the time Yuuri manages to wriggle out of his pants the atmosphere in the car his suffocating. The seatbelt buckle is digging into his back, his skin sticks to the leather of the seat, and he has to hook his leg up around the headrest, but Victor’s lips going down the curve of his neck and his hands roaming on his hips make Yuuri forget about everything. He lets his head fall back and closes his eyes, and nothing matters anymore but Victor.

When they lie together afterward Yuuri cannot remember ever feeling so dirty and sweaty, and yet it seems that he doesn’t have a single brain cell to care. His mind is just quiet exhaustion and fuzzy contentment. What little strength he had left in his body has melted in the heat and he cannot move an inch. Victor is catching his breath and Yuuri can feel his heart beat against his ribs when he rests his head on his chest. They are both limp and flushed, and they sigh with relief when Victor rolls the window down and the shyest breeze tousles their hair.

Yuuri looks up and Victor has a small, satisfied smile. Realization dawns on him.

“Victor…”

“Hm?”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

Victor looks away but his smile widens. “You’ll never know.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Mom?”

“Yuuri? It’s 6 am… Is everything alright?”

Yuuri stops pacing and sits on the bed. He keeps the phone against his ear but takes a few seconds before speaking again. Victor is still at the hotel bar with Chris but Yuuri wanted to go to bed early before the finale and he is now alone in their room.

He has thought about waiting till the next day to call his parents but he wanted to be the first to talk to them, and thanks to the time difference between Barcelona and Hasetsu, it is already tomorrow at the Onsen.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I wanted to tell you something before Mari tells you or you see it on TV…”

His heart is beating fast. He knows that his family has always been very supportive but they are also attached to traditions, and he cannot think of anything less traditional than getting engaged to a foreigner he has known for a few months, while he is abroad and without having told a word about it to his parents beforehand. And Victor has accepted the ring so now he cannot go back no matter their reaction. Not that he would want to anyway. His mother will probably be sad to know that he has taken his decision without telling her, and maybe his father would have liked to talk with Victor a bit more before Yuuri decided on his own to make him a part of the family, but now it’s done, and it’s what Yuuri has chosen.

Hiroko’s voice is worried but still soft and encouraging. “Is there something wrong?”

Yuuri has a small smile for himself. “No, actually… It’s good news. Victor and I are engaged.”

“…Engaged in what?”

Yuuri cringes. “Erm- to each other.”

There is a silence and Yuuri holds his breath. Suddenly, he feels like a six-year-old who has done something silly.

“Yuuri… Are you getting married?”

Yuuri looks at the gold ring on his finger. It shines in the light of the bedside lamp. “I guess so.”

“Did Victor propose?”

“It was kind of my idea… but he wears the ring I gave him and he gave me one too.”

"Rings!” Hiroko gasps, and Yuuri can hear the rustle of the bedsheets on her side of the phone. “Toshi wake up! Yuuri and Victor are getting married!”

His father yawns. “To whom?”

“Together! Our Yuuri’s getting married! To Victor!”

“Does Victor know?”

“Toshi!” Hiroko scolds.

Toshiya grumbles and clears his throat. “He didn’t even ask us to marry our son… Ah, I like him anyway.”

“It’s Yuuri who asked him.”

“And he didn’t tell us?”

Yuuri’s throat tightens. “I know Dad I… I should’ve talked to you about it. It was not really planned to be honest.”

"Oh Yuuri…” Hiroko sighs. “I don’t know what to say I mean- I’m very happy for you of course but it’s a bit hasty…”

Yuuri pinches his lips and nods slowly even though his mother cannot see him.

Yes, it is hasty. He feels like he has known Victor forever, but in reality, they have only met a few months earlier, and despite all the things they have lived together, they cannot tell for sure if they will still be in love in a few months. Plus they have only ever lived in Japan together and Victor will certainly want to go back to Russia, and Yuuri doesn’t know how his life with him will be outside of the comforting warmth of the Onsen.

Yuuri pinches his lips. “I know. But I’ve thought about it and I really think Victor is the right person and I- I love him so much and I think he loves me too and-”

Yuuri stops in surprise when Hiroko chuckles. "We know that Yuuri… Sometimes I think Mari is right and everybody can see it but you two.”

“It was about time!” Toshiya adds in the background. 

“You will be perfect together,” Hiroko coos tenderly. “I just don’t know if I’ll have time to plan for the catering- do you think you can wait a few weeks before the ceremony?”


	12. Chapter 12

When Yuuri regains consciousness it doesn’t exactly feel like he is waking up. It feels like he is coming back from the dead.

He takes a breath and it sounds like the hoarse wheeze of a dying man. His throat is tight and his mouth dry. His tongue tastes like a piece of cardboard. He shivers. His headache is so bad it seems that every hair on his scalp is painful.

The blinds only let the thinnest ray of sunlight into his hotel room and it’s enough for Yuuri to squint at the brightness. He rolls on his back and immediately regrets moving as a queasy shudder travels down his spine. His whole body hurts. Every single one of his muscles is sore. His dress shirt is sticking to his skin and for some reason he is still wearing his socks. He sniffles and catches a whiff of his own smell of sweat and alcohol. He gags.

He has never been so hungover.

He lies motionless for long minutes. The fog in his brain dissipates a little and he cringes. Everything slowly comes back to his mind.

The Grand Prix. His failed jumps. His horrible score. The news article about his downfall. The call to his mother. He whimpers and turns again to hide his face in his pillow. No wonder he drank that much. He had a lot to forget.

And Victor Nikiforov. He must have seen Yuuri’s skate, even just on the screen in the locker room. To him Yuuri must be a weird Nobody who accidentally qualified for the final this year but would never have made it to the podium, not without a holy miracle. He is not worth more than a glance of attention. Victor probably doesn’t even know Yuuri’s name. Yuuri considers emptying the mini-bar and falling back into his drunken coma.

He extends his hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. His fingers touch a crumpled tissue paper. He grabs it to wipe dried drool at the corner of his mouth, but stops halfway.

It’s not a tissue, it’s a napkin from the banquet. Something is scribbled in the creases. Yuuri frowns and unfolds the napkin. It looks like a phone number. He blinks.

He puts his glasses on and his headache gets even worse. He flinches and falls back on his pillow. He holds the napkin up in front of his face and struggles to see clearly in the dim light as his temples throb painfully.

The handwriting is hasty but rounded and delicate. Yuuri stares at it for a moment without really reading it. What kind of number starts with seven?

There are two letters underneath. “B. H.”

Yuuri feels vaguely ashamed that he is unable to remember who gave him this number. He is not even sure that it was actually meant for him. He might have grabbed the napkin on his way out of the ballroom without noticing the number on it. He has absolutely no recollection of how he made it back to his room and no way to know if he was supposed to take the napkin with him or not. He doesn’t even know if he came back with his pants on or if he walked through the hotel hallways in his boxers. About one cell of his brain actually cares.

His thoughts are cloudy but he is fairly sure that he doesn’t know anybody from the banquet with a name that starts with B or an H. It could have been Cao Bin but the H doesn’t match.

For a second he thinks about sending a text and seeing who answers but right now it feels like a lot of effort and he has barely enough strength to hold the napkin. He doesn’t remember talking to anyone but Celestino at the banquet, this phone number was surely not for him and the person will be disappointed that it didn’t reach its intended recipient. The numbers on the napkin blur together. His head hurts so much he struggles to keep his eyes open.

He rolls on his side. His belly gurgles. He sits up and his stomach heaves. He stumbles to the bathroom and falls on his knees in front of the toilet bowl. He regrets everything.

When his stomach is empty and the spasms stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin and crumples it in his hand. He flushes it down the toilet and drags his feet back to his bed, where he collapses and falls back asleep.

 

 

_“Chris, I’m an idiot.”_

_“Well I mean-”_

_“I gave him my number and I signed “B. H.”.”_

_“Why would you sign “B. H.”?”_

_“Because that’s my name! My initials! In Cyrillic!”_

_“Oh Dear.”_

_“I should’ve written “V. N.” but I was too excited and he was leaving I didn’t think about what I was doing-”_

_“Darling calm down, you’re going to get bald prematurely.”_

_“But he was so drunk…”_

_“He’ll remember who gave him the number anyway, it’s not like a hundred people gave him their number. And even if he doesn’t, he’ll contact you on Instagram or something, there’s no way he’ll not do anything after last night, right?”_


	13. Chapter 13

“But… You are the one who said it was just until the Final.”

“You still need my help if you want my opinion.”

Victor’s voice is cold and his eyes are wet with tears. Sitting by the window in his hotel bathrobe, he looks so fragile and vulnerable that Yuuri almost regrets what he just said. He had never seen Victor cry before.

“Are you not coming back?”

Victor clenches his teeth. “You want to quit so I can come back?”

“Don’t worry about me, I-”

Victor jerks up. “How can you tell me to compete again if you’re retiring?” he spits bitterly.

Yuuri stands up too. His eyes water behind his glasses. “It’s my decision and-”

“That you took on your own!”

Victor’s voice is loud and Yuuri tightens his fists. “It’s my career!”

“And I’m your coach!”

“You’re a skater!”

“You can’t just give up on your career for me!”

“Yes I can!”

“Why would you!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” Yuuri shouts, almost despite himself. “I love you and I see that you’re dying to compete again! I see it every time I walk to the locker room without you!”

Victor freezes.

Yuuri’s whole body is shaking. It is anger, and sadness because he is not used to fighting with Victor, but mostly it’s love, like he has never felt it before. 

It is like saying it out loud has made is real and now it’s flooding his chest, sending pins and needles in every muscle of his body, and making his heart beat too fast. Only now he realizes that despite trying to put all his love into his skating, he was still hiding it, restraining it, keeping it for himself, and now it is out, and it’s so strong he is almost scared by his own words.

Victor stands still. Yuuri’s voice echoes in his mind and his heart suddenly feels too big.

Of course, they had shared their feelings before. They had said everything else, every possible variation of the words. They had hugged, the had danced, they had kissed, they had expressed it in all the ways they could think of, but they had never said it so simply.

And now Yuuri standing in front of him, shouting what Victor did not have the guts to whisper, and shaking like he has never said anything more important in his life. Yuuri is sobbing and trembling, and yet he stands tall and he doesn’t look away.

Every time Victor thinks he knows everything about Yuuri, Yuuri surprises him again.

When Victor doesn’t react and keeps looking at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, Yuuri sniffles and lowers his head to wipe his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. He feels strangely exhausted.

“I love you too.”

Yuuri looks up.

“I love you and I don’t want you to stop skating,” Victor adds. “I don’t want you to quit. I won’t let you quit.”

He leans forward and hugs Yuuri so tight that he almost lifts him from the floor. Yuuri melts again his chest. He just wants to stay there and forget about everything. Never have to make a choice. Hide in Victor’s arms forever.

It takes him a long time to speak again.

“What are we going to do?” he mutters weakly.

Victor kisses the top of his head without letting him go. "I don’t know. We can talk about it after the Final. You need to sleep for tomorrow.”

Yuuri presses even closer against him. “Sleep with me please.”

Victor nods and kisses Yuuri again. “Of course.”


	14. Chapter 14

It’s Yuuri’s first week in Russia, and on Friday night Victor suggests to go to the movies. They take the elevator to the underground parking lot of their apartment building, and Yuuri realizes that he has never seen Victor drive and he doesn’t know what kind of car he owns. They walk down to the second level and as they reach the back of the line, something catches Yuuri’s attention. They walk closer, the car comes into sight, and Yuuri’s eyes widen.

Among the small and convenient city cars, all blending in with the gray concrete walls, a bright pink convertible stands out. 

It’s so long that the rear end sticks out of the parking spot. The body is neatly polished and the color, hot and flashy under the neon lights, is impressively aggressive for the eyes. The interior is all in cream-colored leather and looks like it could get dirty just by looking at it too intensely. The whole thing couldn’t look more out of place than it does in this gloomy parking lot in St Petersburg.

Yuuri is still gaping when he realizes with horror that Victor is walking toward this exact car. He comes right up behind it, takes his keys out, and Yuuri cringes so hard he whimpers.

When Victor presses the button of the remote, it’s the car right next to the convertible that blinks, and Yuuri cannot help a loud sigh of relief. Victor’s car is actually a regular black sedan, on the higher end but very ordinary looking.

Victor looks up when he hears Yuuri’s sigh.

“What?”

Yuuri smiles sheepishly. “It’s stupid but… For second I thought this was your car,” he says as he points at the convertible.

Victor looks at the car, then at Yuuri, and raises an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”

Yuuri shrugs awkwardly. “I mean it’s not that I don’t like it but it’s… pink. It’s big, and the color, the open roof, the seats… I don’t even want to think about the price, it’s just very fancy and kind of over the top and- Oh my god it is your car, isn’t it?” he blurts when he realizes what he is saying and how the car is a perfect match for its owner.

Victor blushes. “Yeah, it’s mine. I usually take it when it’s sunnier so I was going for the other one today.”

Yuuri looks down in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, didn’t think you’d have a car like this. I thought you were more into… neutral colors. I mean, your clothes and your apartment… You know.”

Victor nods. “To be honest, when I went to buy a second car I wanted a small sports car, something fast but discreet, and… I don’t know what happened, this one was at the dealership and I felt like I had to get it. They let me try it for a weekend and Makka loved the open roof. I bought it when I brought it back the next day.”

Victor’s eyes shine with happiness, and Yuuri shakes his head, at the same time still shocked by the car, and touched by Victor’s fondness. “Sounds like you.”

“I know it’s really… showy, but I like it, I think it’s one of my favorite things now.”

“What are your other favorite things?”

Victor taps his lips with his finger. “Hm… There’s Makka of course, and maybe my Olympic medal, and… my wedding ring,” he says with a heart-shaped smile.

Yuuri pouts. “I’m glad that I’m up here in your list along with a bright pink car that you bought on a whim.”

Victor hugs him and gets more serious. “You’re not on the list. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, it doesn’t fit it any list.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri mutters, and he rises on his toes to peck Victor’s lips. “You and your pink car,” he adds with a sigh but not without a smile.

Victor fumbles in his pocket, takes out a second set of car keys, and grins. “Do you want to try it?”

Yuuri looks at the convertible again. Victor looks so genuinely excited it’d be heartless to say no. Yuuri walks to the passenger door.

“Let’s go!”


End file.
